"Cough! Cough. This is... where you live? My condo in the Tower is... nicer than this. Hahaha."
"Well, you're not paying for it, are you? You know I value efficiency very highly. This is the cheapest apartment complex within three miles of the office. Hehehe."

"Grrrgh. I need to sit down."
"Easy, now. We're not in any rush, okay?"

Poor Black Smoke was absolutely miserable. He moaned, groaned, whimpered in pain, and dribbled black liquid filth from his mouth. Miss Planner helped him hobble to the kitchen table, kicked off her shoes and took off her earrings, then slid off her blazer and threw it in her laundry bin.

"Do you want some water? Or a protein bar?"
"Water... please."

"Here you are. You're so pale. And your aura is flickering in and out. Psydeath really got you good, didn't he?"
"Grrrgh. Well, that's why I'm here. I can't maintain... my fog transformation anymore. I can barely even keep my human shape. I'm not dying or anything... cough... but I would really appreciate some help."

There was a strange rustling noise in the corner of the living room. Black Smoke slowly looked over to see what it is. A strange human-sized mannequin that looked like it belonged in a department store was sitting on the couch, slowly shifting its limbs from place to place. It fell onto its side and writhed pitifully.

"Cough... should I even ask... what that is?"
Miss Planner ran over to the featureless white puppet and helped it sit up. She held its plastic hand in hers and made a shushing sound.

"This is my latest work in progress. Remember the Feeder I was telling you about? I transferred its soul into this vessel. Tell me what you think."
"Grrrghh... it's uh... very detailed. Hahaha. What does it do?"

"Do? Why, nothing. It just sits there, being cute. I've wanted a pet for a while now, and he was such a good boy for me in the lab that I couldn't resist snatching him up for myself. He doesn't have a name yet, either. I don't want to get too attached until I'm sure his soul is strong enough to stick around. But so far, he's been doing great!"
"Cough. You're sick. I've done some messed up stuff in my life, but you... cough. I don't know how you can live with yourself."

"You don't sound very impressed. I put a lot of work into this. Do you know how hard it is to create a container for a human soul? And a Feeder soul, at that?"
"I guess I have to admit... on the technical side of things, it is impressive. Still, it seems so... sadistic. Haha."

Miss Planner stroked the side of the mannequin's head. It settled itself and calmly relaxed into the couch.

"Don't be ridiculous. He was going to die all alone in a cold, dark prison cell if I hadn't stepped in to rescue him. Now he gets to live in a nice home where he's loved and cared for."
"Right... cough."

"He's the perfect type of pet for my busy working lifestyle. He's very low maintenance. I have a feeling his Feeder powers will come back at some point, but it doesn't really matter if they don't. I just wanted something to love. He's my special little man."
"Hahaha. Grrgh. I guess I should be happy someone here... gets to live a happy life. I thought stupid Psydeath... was going to kill me. Good thing he wasn't smart enough to get rid of all of my... fog. Cough! Cough cough! Grrrgh! Aaaghh!"

"You said you knew him before, right? What was he like before he became... the way he is now?"
"He was totally clueless. He was just some... stupid kid. He did everything I said, even when I betrayed the Brotherhood... right in front of his face. Cough. But he was seriously strong. I took his powers away and kicked him out of the gang because he was too much to handle... I should have just killed him when I had the chance. Grrrgh."

"Some brotherhood, huh? Hehe! I wouldn't want a brother like you!"
"Yeah... he really bought into that whole 'family' garbage. Cough. If he was a little more clever, I would have... brought him into the Wild Cards with the rest of the people who I actually trusted. You know... cough... I have this theory that the more difficult your life is, the stronger your powers are when you first awaken... and nobody had a tougher life than Psydeath. His mom's boyfriend stuck a hypodermic needle in his eye... when he was eight years old. Cough."

"No."
"Yeah. Cough. That wasn't even... the worst of it. He told me everything one night when we were high on Streak. It's not really a surprise he's so twisted. I'm starting to think he was always... a little off. You know, he always used to say... nobody loved him. He said it... so often, I started to believe it too. Poor little guy."

"Well, that poor little guy is probably out there cutting someone apart right now. And you're probably our best chance at stopping him."
"Cough. I failed him, and now... I'm the one responsible for picking up the pieces. The world we live in is a crazy place. Haha."

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I want you to remember you've got the Chosen Ones backing you up. And me, of course. Are you ready to get started?"
"R-ready as I'll ever be, I suppose... should I take my clothes off?"

"Not yet. Just hold still while I measure you. Fixing your legs is going to be easy. I'm going to make a few tweaks here and there to make you stronger, too. We'll harden up your bones, clear up your mind, and we're definitely going to do something about your lungs and throat. You sound like you smoke four packs a day."
"Have you ever... done this for anyone, before?"

"Nope. But I've modified myself plenty of times. In the worst case scenario, I can always cram your soul into one of my puppets... just kidding."
"Cough. You're a... sicko! Hahaha!"
"Hehehe!"